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“For skirts and such for yourself,” Bryant said. “Oh. Do women not sew in your time then?”
“Some do,” I said. “Not as much as in yours. It’s not as necessary. We can just buy our clothes premade in stores. But you’re right, I would like to wear something besides this same outfit. At least make enough for a couple of changes between washings. I hope I remember how to sew from my home economics classes.”
We packed the horses with several items that Bryant planned to barter at the trading post. He had plenty of coins and cash money stashed away, but wisely didn’t want to flash it around when he didn’t have to. This was still the wild west, and it wasn’t smart to draw unwanted attention from thieves and villains who had no compunction to part a fool from his money in the most despicable ways.
After crossing the Silver River bridge, we again rode around the outskirts of town to avoid detection from possible Arcans still hanging around, and reined up behind the general store. Bryant dismounted, then helped me down.
“I’ll unload the horses, then take them to the barn,” he said, untying one bundle from the saddle.
“Make sure to give Patty the apple chunk in my bag,” I reminded. “I don’t want her thinking that I don’t keep my promises.”
Bryant hooded his eyes at me, then shook his head. He thought it was silly of me to name our horses—Pat and Patty after those from my favorite childhood book seriesLittle House on the Prairieby Lara Ingalls Wilder—much less speak of them as if they were my fateful pets. I told him that they would probably be the only horses I would ever come close to owning, so they deserved a little spoiling, as well as names.
After unloading everything into the rear storeroom, together we walked into the store where Alice was sorting through some inventory with Henry. Both startled at the sight of us.
“Land sakes, Michael,” she said, clutching her heart. “Stop sneaking up on me like that! And I see that you’re still in one solid piece, Miss McEwan, although a great deal worse for wear.”
Was I?
Self-consciously I smoothed my stained, dusty skirt and blouse, realizing that two weeks of rough pioneer life had indeed worn on me. I mentally added a large quantity of soap to my shopping list.
God, I missed laundry detergent and my favorite strawberry scented shampoo and conditioner.
“A word with you, Alice,” Bryant said pointedly at her.
She gave a nod, then handed Henry the inventory list. “Finish this. I want to get the order in tomorrow. Michael, come upstairs with me to the kitchen. There’s still coffee leftover from breakfast, if you’ve a mind to drink it.”
Bryant laid a hand on my shoulder, saying, “Stay here with Henry. I’ll be back down directly.”
A private conversation then.
I pursed my lips, annoyed at being kept from their secret discussion which was sure to involve me in some way. Bryant narrowed his eyes at me not to push the issue. I sniffed dryly, complying with bad grace, then watched Alice and Bryant ascend the stairs.
“I got the last chemical needed for my photography development last Tuesday, Miss McEwan,” Henry said, drawing my attention back to him. “I took a few photographs of ma, but they didn’t come out very well.”
“That’s a start. I’d love to see them.”
Eagerly he darted to the rear storeroom, returning with three darkly blurred black and white photographs.
“My development timing was off, I suspect,” he said. “According to the instructions sent me by Mr. Eastman, I was to keep the lens hood uncovered for no more than twenty seconds, but I believe that may be too short. Next time I plan to try thirty seconds to see if I can capture the image better.”
“Experimentation is the best route to the discovery of new things,” I agreed, handing back the pictures. “This friend of your uncle’s, the one with the photography business. Is his name by chance George Eastman?”
Henry’s eyes widened. “How did you know? Did ma mention him?”
I bit down the thrilled smile at my own discovery. “She might have mentioned him. A very innovative man, I hear. Make sure you follow his work closely. Tell your uncle to invest in his business when the opportunity arises.”
“I will,” Henry said. “Oh! And you were right. I’ve been working twice as hard at the store, and just this morning ma said that I could have a corner of the storeroom to work on my photography development. As a reward for my extra efforts here.”
“See there,” I said, glad that my encouragement had paid off for him. “Someday you might even be able to make extra money with your photography. Then she’ll really see the benefit of you taking pictures.”
“I do hope so. Thank you again, Miss McEwan.”
“You can just call me Callista,” I said confidentially. “We’re friends now. At least I hope we are.”
“We are indeed! Callista,” he added my name quietly, beading red as if he had just said something very naughty.
We talked more about his photography, then moved to his hopeful visit to his uncle in Seattle. The conversation stopped anytime a customer walked in and he needed to assist them, then picked back up after they left.
